Talking to Snakes
by Rumour of an Alchemist
Summary: In an alternate universe where there was no wizarding war and his mother was a pure-blood witch, Harry James Potter discovers he is one of the not uncommon children able to talk to snakes, but why does that make his father so sad?


Disclaimer: I am not J. K. Rowling. I do not own Harry Potter. And the _nomme de guerre_ 'The Gentleman Caller' is, alas, not my own invention but out of a TSR 'Ravenloft' book, but it sounded something sufficiently suave and sophisticated that the Tom Marvolo Riddle of the universe this story is in might have invented it for himself.

Note: The following is set in an alternate universe where there _was_ no wizarding war or Death Eaters because Tom Marvolo Riddle took a different path. Note that in this universe James Potter did not marry Lily Evans but had an arranged marriage to another pure-blood. This story is a one-shot and takes a brief look at four moments in the life of Harry James Potter spanning between his discovery that he is a Parselmouth at the age of eight, and his arrival at Hogwarts on the 1st September, 1991.

As a reminder this story is 'M' rated, and identified as hurt/comfort.

* * *

When Harry James Potter was eight, he discovered that he could speak to snakes, and in doing so inadvertently made his father cry.

Harry didn't understand why. He had to ask.

"Why are you sad, daddy? Is there something wrong with being able to talk to snakes?"

It was a bright and sunny day and they had been playing in the garden of the house in Ottery St. Catchpole, just over the hill from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and their family.

"No Harry." James blinked away the tears, and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Being able to talk to snakes is a wonderful thing, and there are a lot of children around these days who can do it. But daddy is sad because it reminds him of how mummy hurt him, very badly, before she went away. But come here and give me a hug."

Harry did so, and his father sniffled some more, and hugged him back.

"Always remember, Harry, that I love you, and no matter what, you will never stop being _my_ son. And I will make sure that the officials who sort people's possessions and property out after they die know that, too."

"Why, daddy, are you going to die soon?" Harry asked.

"I hope not." James Potter replied.

"Can you talk to snakes, daddy?" Harry asked.

"No, Harry." James replied.

"What about Janet?" Harry asked, meaning his younger sister.

"I don't know, Harry. We'll have to find out."

* * *

By the time he was ten Harry had discovered that several of his friends from the 'abandoned magical childen' home could talk to snakes, as could Luna from down the road.

Luna had a theory about it, which she had heard from her step-father, Xenophilius Lovegood, who ran an important magazine called _The Quibbler_ which looked into stories the daily newspapers didn't have time to research properly.

"It's the work of an incubus." Luna said. "Daddy says so. There's a lot of stuff that most adults whisper when they think children aren't listening about someone who called himself 'The Gentleman Caller', who was actually supposed to be a wizard called Tom, but that wouldn't make sense."

"Is an incubus related to nargles?" Harry asked her. He had a _vague_ idea what nargles were supposed to be, although he'd never actually seen one.

"I have no idea." Luna said. "Daddy says incubi are very naughty, but he says he won't explain what they are until I'm older."

Even though Mr. Lovegood was Luna's stepfather, she still called him daddy, because, in Luna's own words, 'step-daddy would sound so silly'.

* * *

On Harry's eleventh birthday, Harry had a party and lots of friends and presents, and a letter for him arrived from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

In the evening, after all his friends had gone home and Janet had been put to bed, his father called him into his study.

"Harry. There's something very important you ought to know," James Potter said, looking very sad, "but it hurts me a lot to even think about it, and even though I was sorted into Gryffindor, I can't bear to tell you myself. I've talked with a teacher from the school, and I hear that it's something that they tell all the first years about anyway, these days, on their first day at Hogwarts, so I'm going to let them tell you. It has to do with your being able to talk to snakes though. And when they tell you, please, remember what I told you several years ago, that you will _always_ be my son, and also that I will love you, no matter what. However: It is clear to me by now that your sister cannot talk to snakes, and so she will have to have my invisibility cloak once I no longer have any need for it. There are some very complicated rules that go with it, because it's been in the family for such a long time."

"Is it about being fair, and because I can talk to snakes, and she can't, she has to have the cloak to make up for it?" Harry asked.

"Sort of." his father frowned.

"Well that's okay with me, then." Harry smiled.

* * *

Harry was at Hogwarts, before the sorting. Professor McGonagall had assembled all the first-years in a small room to explain something important to them, and her expression was grim, and Harry felt horribly scared.

There had been a very clever, charming, handsome wizard, called Tom Marvolo Riddle, the professor explained. Tom Marvolo Riddle could wrap most women around his little finger. And he had set out to wreck a _lot_ of families. Especially ones that were thought of as being 'pure-blood' ones.

As far as anyone here tonight who could speak to snakes was concerned – no matter what else they might think that they knew – they had probably had Tom Marvolo Riddle as either their father or grandfather. Before Tom Marvolo Riddle, there had been practically _no_ known examples of witches and wizards who could talk to snakes. Now there were dozens, and since the ability was known to be solely hereditary, and in light of Tom Marvolo Riddle's decades long pursuit of and conquest of women (which had lasted until the day an enraged Frank Longbottom had accidentally found him at Longbottom Manor and killed him), there was only one logical conclusion to draw.

And Harry remembered how sad his father seemed at times, and his promise that he would love Harry and always think of him as his son, 'no matter what', and at last he understood.

* * *

Author Notes:

This particular idea originated with my having come across one too many stories where it seems that practically anyone of the opposite sex with a pulse within half a dozen years of Harry's age is drooling all over him (or one of his friends), and wondering what a universe might look like where one of the supposed canon villains had a similar effect and libido. It was originally intended to be a parody, but somehow ended up turning into something slightly more serious...

In this particular universe Tom Marvolo Riddle's background is much as canon up until the moment that he's sorted into Slytherin, at which point it comes out, somehow, that he is a half-blood, and he gets seven years of hell from the pure-bloods, who think they're better than him (not only on grounds of blood, but on that of the impoverished state of Tom's wizarding relatives) and instead of declaring war on muggle-borns and muggles, Tom decides to wage war on the pure-bloods and their families. He can't take their magic from them, or very easily their gold, but he _can_ take their precious blood purity, their women, and their children from them, and any family identified as 'pure-blood' is fair game.

Instead of becoming 'Lord Voldemort', Tom becomes 'The Gentleman Caller', mastering the arts of seduction and of magic useful for evading identification/capture, until a fateful afternoon in 1981 when auror Frank Longbottom catches him _in flagrante_ with Frank's wife.

Anyway, that's it from this one, bar any revisions/tidying up exercises.


End file.
